


Bloom

by boxofwonder



Series: Kiyoyachi Week! [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/F, Future Fic, queerplatonic kagehinas in the background if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 00:19:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3467417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxofwonder/pseuds/boxofwonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Her lips taste like cherry</em>, Yachi finds herself thinking, and: <em>I think we might be forever.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> Another reworked story originally for kiyoyachi week. I'm so, so late with this and I completely forgot I had even written this in the first place?!  
> But oh well. Who doesn't need kiyoyachi through the years? 
> 
> The prompt was 'their song', and their song in this is Bloom by The Paper Kites.

The song is all gentle notes and a gentle voice, something Yachi's young and excited little heart needs before it will jump right out of her chest. She will only later find out what it's called, when she desperately asks anyone and their grandma – everyone except for Kiyoko herself, who will tell her with a soft little smile, because _she_ had known all along.

'Bloom', the song was called. The song which plays during their first dance on prom, and somehow, since then, Yachi always thinks of Kiyoko whenever she hears it.

Yachi's curls smell like hairspray and her lips are a little sticky with lip gloss, but she had felt pretty ever since she slipped into her dress, and even more so when her mother turned away to hide her wet eyes and pulled her into a careful, yet fierce hug telling her she was absolutely gorgeous.

Of course, Kiyoko looks _even more_ stunning. Her hair is artfully crafted into an updo, curled bangs framing her face. This close, with her warm hand in hers (and Yachi is praying her hands aren't sweaty), and Kiyoko's other hand over her shoulder blade, swaying to the music, Yachi finds out how gorgeous she truly is. The other couples around do not exist, only Kiyoko does, and the song filtering through, soft and quiet.

_Can I be close to you, ooooh, can I be close to you?_

Isn't it amazing, how she can? Isn't it amazing that she got this dance, with the most gorgeous, breathtaking, amazing, intelligent, incredible girl she had ever met? Wasn't this entire evening a miracle in itself?

Later that evening, on her doorstep, Kiyoko kisses her.

_Her lips taste like cherry_ , Yachi finds herself thinking, and:  _I think we might be forever_ . 

 

\---

 

Their song plays the evening before Kiyoko moves away to go to university in Tokyo. Yachi's cheeks are stinging from tears and her nose is stuffy and she feels horrible, and Kiyoko is still holding her and running her hand through her hair, but Yachi can't stop thinking about how she'll be gone so soon, how they won't see each other most days anymore, and cries harder.

 

\---

 

Yachi puts their song on whenever she writes her letters.

Long ones, the ones she writes when missing Kiyoko gets too overwhelming. She tells her about Karasuno, how the boys are doing. What an amazing captain Ennoshita makes. The progress of the former first years, and the mishaps and hilarious stories of their new crow chicks. How Yachi is doing as a manager. The new girl under her wing who seems to admire her which seems like something out of a strange, morphed dream.

She tells her about Hinata's sister visiting training one day and the ruckus that followed, about her new socks with tiny cat paws on them, the cookie recipe she tried last week and, of course, how much she loves her.

Kiyoko writes back without fail. They call each other, too, but the letters are important to both of them.

_Can I be close to you_ ? The question had never been more urgent to her. She wants to be, wants to be so badly. 

 

\---

 

Yachi insists on 'Bloom' being the first song they play in their new flat. There's still boxes everywhere and the new bed is a pile of wood and loose screws scattered over the floor, but the sofa is comfortable and Kiyoko's arms feel like home.

Yachi listens to the song and remembers her hours and weeks and months and years of longing, and revels in the fact that all this has come to an end now.

That she gets to hear Kiyoko sing under the shower and cook for both of them and wake up next to her in the mornings.

 

\---

 

It comes on involuntarily, because Yachi wouldn't have chosen it, head on Hinata's lap as he brushes her hair with his fingers and Kageyama rests his hand on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing helpless little circles.

“I guess nothing really lasts forever,” Hinata says, helplessly, but Yachi wants to scream and set fire to the memories and all the shattered promises and because she was so stupid, so, so stupid, to believe in this.

_I thought we'd be forever_ , she wants to scream. Because they were special. And she hates the past tense, she loathes it with all her being. She had not known she was capable of so many negative feelings, a heart broken to such an extent. She had not known Kiyoko was able to scream and she had not known she was able to shout back. And she had not known piling up bags and boxes in the flat her best friends share could hurt so bad. 

_I thought we'd be forever_ ! 

Kageyama hastily gets up and cuts the radio off, but Yachi already heard the song. Fresh sobs burst from her and she curls up as tightly as she can get, lets herself cry and her friends comfort her. They reassure her things will be okay, but Yachi can't quite believe them.

 

\---

 

The world does go on.

She patches up her heart and concentrates on her career.

She builds a new life entirely for herself and finds joy in rooming with her chaotic best friends for a while.

But even when they've healed over, the scars are still there.

She supposes they won't ever go away.

 

\---

 

She hears the faint notes, walking hand in hand with her girlfriend, and she furrows her brows because she can't help it feeling off, can't help feeling the fingers laced with hers should be more slender, should squeeze more carefully, yet insistently. That her laugh should ring differently and her hair should feel differently when Yachi runs her fingers through it.

She tries, she tries to make it work, but it's barely a month before they break up, because Yachi can't do this to her.

She wonders if she'll ever get over the lost forever which had been promised to her, distant notes of a broken song still deep in her heart and mind and soul, waiting.

She doesn't know what she's waiting for.

 

\---

 

Years pass, and she keeps waiting.

 

\---

 

It's ironic, that the song plays when Yachi gets up to switch her champagne to orange juice on Michimiya's wedding, eyes more on the two brides (who would've thought the former captain of underdog team Karasuno would marry the former captain of the Queens Niiyama?) than where she is going.

She's matured and changed since high school, but clumsiness isn't something you can really grow out of. So of course she stumbles into a stranger, spilling alcohol all over her pretty dress and the other woman's, feeling a hand wrap around her wrist to keep her from toppling over as she stumbles back too hastily.

She looks up, a thousand apologies on her lips and gratitude for at least being saved from falling, but – she can't get out a single word. Her breath hitches in her throat.

_She looks good with short hair_ , Yachi thinks.  _She looks so different and yet the same_ . 

It's the weirdest thought, but she doesn't know how else to put it into words.

“Watch out,” Kiyoko says, her voice breathless and she doesn't seem aware of the alcohol dripping from her dress. She hasn't let go of Yachi's wrist yet.

“Sorry,” she says, because nothing else comes to mind.

Kiyoko smiles, the same way she'd smiled a hundred other times, and the song is still playing, and Yachi's hair smells like hair spray again and suddenly she feels like she's fifteen, dying of excitement as she's dancing with her crush, feeling like the future is stretching out wide and endlessly. So many possibilities.

“Do you want to dance?”, Yachi blurts, without thinking.

She wants to take it back. Apologise and hurry off. And maybe lock herself in the toilet and emergency text Kageyama and Hinata to go get her instead of getting competitive over catching the bouquet. Or maybe climb out of the window, take her heels into her hands and run with bare feet until she can escape the image of short hair and eyes which hadn't changed at all and the black ink curling around Kiyoko's right arm.

But instead, she keeps quiet as Kiyoko slowly leads her to the dance floor.

At first, Yachi is very much aware of the eyes on them. Half the people here went to high school with them, they know their history. Yachi can see Kageyama slap Hinata's back after he choked on his drink, staring with wide eyes.

But then, she looks back at Kiyoko. And the last notes of the song ring as they clumsily try to remember dance steps they used to know. Yachi opens her mouth to say something and Kiyoko does the same, and they hesitate, and then they laugh.

So, it's what they do.

They dance, and they talk, and at the end of the night, Kiyoko asks if she could see her again. The old scars ache a little, reminding her of the risk she's taking, but her heart beats too fast and too loudly. She has learned to listen to this kind of noise it's making, to follow where it leads her. She's been waiting and stagnant for far too long. Maybe it's time to take a chance.

So she kisses Kiyoko's cheek, and tells her she would like that.

 

\---

 

They play the song on the wedding, for their very first dance as wives.

It's a little like their first dance, even though it's been fifteen years since then, what feels like a lifetime, a lifetime between the woman she is and the girl she used to be. Some things never change, though, she guesses, as she holds Kiyoko close and dances with her, a smile on her lips that fills her entire being with warm, bubbly joy. 

_I think we might be forever_ .

 


End file.
